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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056509">Sam's views on the excessive exchange of saliva</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storybelle/pseuds/Storybelle'>Storybelle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awesome Charlie Bradbury, Charlie Bradbury &amp; Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury &amp; Sam Winchester Friendship, Fallen Castiel, Human Castiel, Hunting, Kissing without kissing, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sam Winchester's Bitchface, Sam is a Good Brother, Season 9, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, The Big Damn Kiss, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:07:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056509</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storybelle/pseuds/Storybelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wonders if Dean and Cas know what they’re doing with their straws and pens and lollipops. He suspects they don’t and wishes they would just outright kiss instead of this indirect sexual tension giving him a headache.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester, Destiel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>165</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sam's views on the excessive exchange of saliva</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It starts shortly after Cas became human (and by shortly, Sam means barely even half an hour, Jesus.) Cas arrived, soaked to the skin, half-starved and downright desperate. The eye-fucking that went on when Dean had seen who was at the door was par for the course, but the hug was new. Dean didn’t even seem to care that Cas was drenched and swaying from exhaustion: he’d pushed past Sam and thrown his arms around his best friend. But that was understandable. Winchesters liked their ‘I’m-glad-you’re-not-dead’ hugs. And they’d spent a while after the angels fell thinking Cas was dead.Sam had hugged him too briefly (Cas was ripe. How did Dean not mind it?)</p><p>But it wasn’t until they fed Cas that the true weirdness started. Cas had devoured several grilled cheese sandwiches and nearly all of the juice they had in the bunker’s fridge. Sam was hanging half in, half out of the fridge when Dean asked him for the last of the orange juice. Sam passed it over and Dean poured the rest of the container into Cas’ glass…before taking a swig out of it.</p><p>And then putting it in front of Cas, who promptly drained it without a thought.</p><p>Sam didn’t even realise he was standing in front of the open fridge with his mouth open until Dean walked by and slapped him on the shoulder.</p><p>“Jesus, Sammy, you trying to give my bacon some air? Close the door.” Sam had done so and then gone to the next room to sit down.</p><p>It wasn’t that weird, right? He and Dean had probably shared glasses all the time when they were kids. And it’s not like Cas knew any better but what the hell was with Dean? All that ‘personal space, Cas’ thing when they’d first met and now, five years later Dean didn’t even seem to care anymore.</p><p>Dean had probably just wanted some juice before Cas drank it all and couldn’t be bothered to get a fresh glass, Sam decided. It was fine. A one-off.</p><p>Except it wasn’t.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Five days days later, it happens again. </p><p>Sam is making breakfast, the OJ incident all but forgotten. Cas sits blearily at the kitchen table. He took a while to get the hang of sleeping but now that he has, he’s not very fond of mornings.</p><p>Sam is keeping a careful eye on the bacon as it fries. He knows that the smell will eventually draw Dean out of his own room, and when he does he can bloody well make some pancakes.</p><p>It doesn’t take long. Then again, it wouldn’t take a velociraptor long to sniff out a wounded animal either.</p><p>“Bacon,” Dean says, wandering into the kitchen, nose first. “Hash browns. Eggs. Nice one, Sammy.”</p><p>“And tomatoes,” Sam points out. Dean predictably screws up his face. But Jess had always made an English breakfast with tomatoes. Even over eight years later since she’d last cooked him one, it felt wrong not to have them.</p><p>“Vile, squishy things,” Dean mutters. </p><p>“Vegetables, Dean,” Sam says, flipping the bacon over so it achieves crispy perfection on both sides.“Well, fruit.”</p><p>“Even worse,” Dean says, wrinkling his nose. “Not something that belongs in a fry up, Sammy.”</p><p>“If you want proper fruit you can make blueberry pancakes,” Sam says, waving a spatula at the fridge.</p><p>“Chocolate chips,” Dean mutters under his breath, looking grateful to see the fresh pot of coffee waiting.</p><p>“Breakfast is nearly ready, Cas,” Sam says to their half asleep friend, as Dean pours himself a mug.</p><p>But Cas doesn’t pay attention to Sam, eyes instead on the mug Dean is sipping from.</p><p>“May I have some of that?” Cas asks, curiously. Dean eyes the pot and then Cas before shrugging.</p><p>“Maybe try it first before you have a whole mug,” Dean says. “Here.” He passes the cup to Cas who immediately takes a cautious sip from it. Sam nearly drops the spatula.</p><p>“It’s nice,” Cas says, after some consideration. “But perhaps, it should be sweeter?”</p><p>Dean predictably rolls his eyes. “You are not ruining my coffee with sugar.” He snatches his mug back and goes to get Cas his own coffee.</p><p>Sam just stares as Dean adds milk and two sugars to the mug of coffee before he pushes it across the table to Cas. Cas sniffs it and then drinks. </p><p>“That is extremely satisfactory,” Cas says, with the blissed out expression of someone who discovers coffee for the first time.</p><p>Dean snorts, leaning against the counter. “Good Lord, Sammy, we got an angel hooked on coffee. Wait until he discovers sex.”</p><p>Sam merely thinks ‘Oh God, you’re going to be the one to introduce him to that too, aren’t you?’</p><p>At this point, it seems a fairly reasonable next step.</p><p>“Sam, don’t burn the bacon!” Dean yelps and Sam has to hurry to not ruin breakfast or start a fire.</p><p>A short while later, they’re sitting at the table and Sam pretends to not notice Dean watching Cas lick maple syrup off his lip.</p><p>This cannot get any worse.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It gets worse.</p><p>Two days after that, Dean sucks on Cas’ finger after the angel sliced it open on a knife.</p><p>And a week after that as they were settling down for a movie night, Cas had picked up Dean’s coke and sipped from his straw, before putting it back down. And Dean just continued drinking from it, as if it were totally normal.</p><p>Dean will come into the kitchen in the morning and finish what’s left of the juice in Cas’ glass...and then refill it like it was always his glass.</p><p>Sam hasn’t burnt the breakfast again but he is this close to locking them in the bunker’s dungeon together.</p><p>When Cas borrows Dean’s pen and casually sucks on the end while he thinks, Sam reaches his breaking point.</p><p>He calls in backup.</p>
<hr/><p>“I’m sorry, you want me to what?” Charlie asks incredulously when Sam calls her the next day. She sounds disturbed, confused, and intrigued all at once.</p><p>In hindsight, Sam should not have started with ‘You have to come visit, Cas and Dean are doing a freaky mouth thing.’ But to be fair, he’s hiding in an empty room in the bunker, trying not to sneeze from all the dust up his nose. He told Dean to dust these rooms, geez.</p><p>“It’s Dean and Cas,” Sam says again. He finds a relatively clean box and sits down on it. </p><p>“Doing a freaky mouth thing, yeah, I heard,” Charlie says, sounding bemused.</p><p>“It’s just weird and I can’t look at them anymore,” Sam says. It’s been nearly three weeks of badly suppressed sexual tension and them putting their mouths on anything other than the thing they really want to touch. Namely, each other.</p><p>“Well, maybe you shouldn’t interrupt their special alone time,” Charlie says, teasingly. “Sometimes adults go have private time together, Sam…”</p><p>Sam resists the urge to inhale the hundred year old dust and die from suffocation right then and there.</p><p>“It’s not...they’re not doing that!” he hisses.</p><p>“So what are they doing?”  Charlie asks curiously. Sam can hear the clack of computer keys on the other end of the phone. That girl never seems able to sit and focus on just one thing. </p><p>“Stuff, ok? Their freaky ‘profound bond’ weirdness just went up a level.” Boy, has it ever. They’ve had scrapes with death before, nearly losing Cas, but clearly this time is different. This time it got a little too close. They weren’t sure the angel was even alive until they found him on their front door. </p><p>“That does sound interesting,” Charlie muses. “And it already sounded like it was pretty freaky.”</p><p>“Well, you’re not wrong,” Sam says dryly. “But please, please come. I need someone sane.”</p><p>“I do have a life, you know?” Charlie says. “It’s not much of one but I’ve still got it.”</p><p>“I won’t have one for much longer,” Sam tells her. “Because I’ll have gone insane from the ludicrous levels of unacknowledged sexual tension and disgusting amount of shared saliva!”</p><p>Charlie snorts, and it’s such a Dean snort that Sam is reminded why she’s their adopted little sister.</p><p>“All right,” she says. “I’ll come. But it had better be as bad as you say.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I take it back,” Charlie says, two days later. She’s rubbing her fingers inside the popcorn bag and then sticking them in her mouth.</p><p>“Take what back?” Sam asks.</p><p>“What I said,” she explains, digging her hand back inside the bag. “It’s worse than you said. Sorry.”</p><p>“I told you,” Sam says, wearily. “What are you doing? There’s no popcorn left.”</p><p>“The bag is all buttery,” she says. “Anyway, that’s not nearly as bad as Cas and Dean.”</p><p>Sam lets his head drop on the back of the couch. He’s glad Charlie was here to see it (and therefore prove he’s not crazy) but this time he’s reaching his breaking point.</p><p>
  <b>7.15pm that evening</b>
</p><p>“Charlie’s here!” Sam shouts, pulling Charlie into the bunker and dropping her duffel on the floor. She looks a bit dazed from being tugged out of her car with all her bags and then marched over to the bunker’s entrance but she’ll get over it. She just hitches her laptop bag’s strap up her shoulder and shoots a look at Sam.</p><p>“Already?” Dean calls from the kitchen. “I didn’t hear anybody knock…”</p><p>Well, no. That’s because Sam has sat outside for the last half an hour waiting for her to drive up.</p><p>Dean comes out to give Charlie a hug and almost envelopes her, until only a few tendrils of red hair are visible. </p><p>“Missed you too, Dean,” says Charlie’s muffled voice. “But your pecs don’t really do anything for me.” Dean sheepishly lets her go.</p><p>“Sorry. It’s been a while,” Dean says, fondly ruffling her hair. </p><p>“So where’s this angel cake I’ve heard so much about?” Charlie asks, slyly shooting Sam a look. She’s not wasting any time.</p><p>Sam sees it, the way Dean’s face lights up when Cas is mentioned. He’s seen it before, of course. Cas has always been a key for Dean’s moods. He’s just not sure when it went from ‘angelic best friend/glad you’re alive and not dead again’ to...well, whatever the hell this is.</p><p>“Yeah, you’ve gotta meet him,” Dean says, enthusiastically. “Hey, Sammy, put Charlie’s stuff in her room, would you?” </p><p>Charlie shoots Sam a smirk and follows Dean down the hall. Sam sighs and begins gathering up Charlie’s things. He probably asked for this.</p><p>Honestly, these days it’s almost like he’s not Dean’s favourite person anymore.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>8.03pm</b>
</p><p>“Nachos are ready!” Dean announces, walking into the living with bowls piled high with nachos. Cas follows behind, a bit more sedately, with a tray of drinks and movie candy.</p><p>“We’re having nachos for dinner?” Charlie asks in bemusement. Dean sets the bowls down on the table - one for Sam and Charlie and the other for him and Cas - and lowers himself onto the couch.</p><p>“Cas has never had nachos before,” Dean explains and then turns away to help Cas with his tray, giving Sam opportunity to give Charlie a look.</p><p>She returns with her own which clearly says ‘dude, you’d better have brought me here for more than that.’</p><p>Sam sighs and reaches for the bowl to settle it between himself and Charlie. It’s all fine. She’ll see it soon enough. </p><p>“So,” Dean says, once Cas is seated. “What are we watching? Sherlock? Game of Thrones? Or a movie? Guest of honour, any input?”</p><p>Charlie swallows the mouthful of chip and salsa she has going on, and reaches for another.</p><p>“I dunno. What’s Cas not seen?”</p><p>“Anything,” Sam and Dean reply, simultaneously. Suddenly becoming human meant that Cas had hours of catching up to do. And so far, the former angel has been resistant to anything that wasn’t the news or Friends reruns.</p><p>“What?” Charlie says, with her mouth open. “Not even Harry Potter?”</p><p>Sam can see where this is going. He hurriedly reaches for a beer.</p><p>“No,” Cas says, tilting his head. “But Dean says I am a muggle now, so I would like to understand that reference.”</p><p>Charlie makes a noise that can only be described as an excited squeak.</p><p>Sam mentally prepares himself to have the Harry Potter theme in his head for the rest of the night.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Cas likes Harry Potter. Go figure.</p><p>Even Sam has to laugh at the look on Castiel's face during the Diagon Alley scene. Charlie is equally entranced, although she must have seen these films dozens of times each, if not more. Dean devours more than his fair share of nachos and feigns disinterest but Sam knows his brother is a bigger nerd than anybody so that doesn't fly.</p><p>At first, Sam is too busy watching Dean and Cas to truly pay attention to the screen. Charlie clearly notices this, occasionally giving him looks that show exactly how mad she thinks he is. He responds as best he can without the other two noticing. It's very difficult to mime 'I promise, they do weird sexual tension things when you're not around, you didn't see the pen thing' without making much of a scene.</p><p>He's about to give up - maybe they're done, maybe they don't do it in front of company, maybe they've started doing indecent things in private (please, God, let it be that last one) - when it happens near the end of the first movie.</p><p>It's the giant chess game and Ron is just about to give himself up to save the others when Dean gives an inelegant snort. Sam twists to find Cas attempting to scoop salsa, guacamole and cheese onto a chip and failing terribly.</p><p>"No, the trick is to use another chip to put it all on." Dean demonstrates, deftly nudging toppings onto a larger chip with a smaller  one and then lifting the entire cheese mountain to Cas' mouth. Sam can feel Charlie literally freeze next to him and he wants to cackle and shout with triumph but he's equally stuck still as they watch Cas's mouth close around the pile and all but basically suck the salt off Dean's fingers.</p><p>To make matters worse, Dean then casually licks his fingers a few moments later.<br/>
Charlie rests her hand on Sam's thigh and digs her fingers in. Judging by her face, she's trying hard not to scream. Which Sam understands given what they're just witnessed but ow. She's strong for someone so tiny.</p><p>"Good?" Dean asks, eyes focused on Cas' face...or more specifically his mouth. Cas chews thoughtfully and swallows.</p><p>"Very," he agrees. "Can we have these again?" Dean almost puffs up, looking pleased.</p><p>"'Course," he says gruffly, reaching for his beer. "But I can make you better stuff. Anything you've ever wanted to try?"</p><p>"I've always been quite curious about meatloaf," Castiel confesses but Sam has stopped listening. He's attempting to communicate silently with Charlie - although that basically means they raise their eyebrows in shock at each other and make 'I know!' faces at each other while Dean enthusiastically talks about the food he wants Cas to try.</p><p>And the night just gets worse.</p><p>When Hermione was petrified in Chamber of Secrets, Cas absently reached for a glass and took a swig, not seeming to care that it was Dean's. They made popcorn before Prisoner of Azkaban and Dean looks a little slack jawed as Cas licks the butter off his fingers. And then right at the end when Harry and Hermione rush back to the hospital wing, Charlie gets this glint in her eye and produces a handful of lollipops. Dean grabs an apple one and Cas, after much hesitation, decides on a pineapple one.</p><p>"I'm not sure I have made a good decision," Cas says gravely, staring at the small unwrapped sweet in his hand, after taking his first tentative lick.</p><p>"I've got more if you don't want that one, Cas," Charlie offers as Cas hesitantly places the lollipop on his tongue. The subsequent face he pulls indicates that he does not like it.</p><p>"No good?" Sam asks. Cas shakes his head and removes the lollipop from his mouth.</p><p>"Strange. And too tart," he notes, studying the lollipop with the same intensity he used to have when humans were confusing him. Dean pulls his own apple lollipop out of his mouth and deftly swaps Castiel’s for his.</p><p>“Try this one,” he says, calmly sticking the pineapple one in his own mouth as though it hadn't just been on Cas’ tongue. “It’ll be sweeter. No point wasting a good candy.” </p><p>Sam reaches behind him to poke Charlie in the ribs, as her grip on his thigh has gotten uncomfortably tight again. Maybe all the gaming contributes to her insane finger strength. It doesn’t work and if anything it only gets more painful as Cas tentatively licks his new lollipop.</p><p>“That’s much more pleasant,” he decides, putting the whole thing in his mouth. </p><p>“Ow!” Sam yelps as Charlie’s nails dig into his thigh. Both Cas and Dean turn to him with identical confused expressions.</p><p>“You alright there, Sammy?” Dean asks. Charlie has sheepishly removed her hand and Sam discreetly tries to rub the aching area.</p><p>“Yeah, just uh...stubbed my toe. So, Goblet of Fire?” Sam says, hurriedly changing the subject. He shoots Charlie a look that says under no circumstances is she allowed to use his leg as a stress ball again, no matter what gross thing Cas and Dean do.</p><p>“Sounds good,” Dean agrees, easily dismissing Sam’s moment of weirdness. “Hey, Cas, ever had a s’more?”</p>
<hr/><p>1.04am</p><p>"The lollipops were the worst," Sam mutters and Charlie squeaks in indignation.</p><p>"I'm sorry, were you not there for the nacho thing?" she says, waving a spit and salt covered hand for emphasis. "Actual sucking! Way worse."</p><p>Sam has to concede on this one. Both of them looked very much like they wanted to suck something else entirely.</p><p>"I just..." he says, trying to gather his thoughts into a cohesive line. "I wonder how Cas feels about this."</p><p>"What do you mean?" Charlie asks, keeping a watchful eye on the door in case either one comes back to find themselves being gossiped about. Dean would go very red and then find a knife because that's his go to for everything.</p><p>"Cas is human now. Human," Sam stresses. "It's about as strange as me suddenly becoming a toad or a unicorn or something."</p><p>"You'd be a lovely unicorn," Charlie says blithely, still investigating the popcorn bag.</p><p>"Still, it's almost like learning how to live all over again," Sam continues, ignoring her. "He has to go the slow way for everything. He has to deal with human wants and emotions..."</p><p>"Wants being the key word here," Charlie says, raising an eyebrow. "I'm guessing that's where you're going with this. It’s not like he has a great deal of experience with arousal.”</p><p>"I suppose," Sam begrudgingly admits. "But love too. I mean, I know Cas loves us. He's<br/>
died for us. More than once. And his bond with Dean has always been a bit...intense. But that kind of love is completely different to..." He trails off and gestures at thin air awkwardly.</p><p>Charlie nods slowly and both of them sit in complete silence. </p><p>“What do we do about it?” Charlie asks suddenly and Sam almost chokes on air in his panic.</p><p>“What do you mean ‘we’?” he squeaks. “I’m not getting involved in that!” Charlie rolls her eyes and finally abandons her popcorn bag.</p><p>“They need help,” she points out. “Cas isn’t used to this sort of thing and Dean…” She trails off but Sam knows what she means.</p><p>“Dean will bury his head in the sand and pretend emotions aren’t something that he has,” Sam concedes. “Alright. But how the hell are we supposed to help?”</p><p>Charlie chews on her lip thoughtfully before brightening. “There was this Harry Potter fanfiction…” Sam slaps a hand over her mouth before she can go any further.</p><p>“Nothing that was ever in fanfiction,” he insists, thinking of Becky with a shudder. “I’m not going there. This is real life.” He removes his hand, only to reveal Charlie’s displeased frown.</p><p>“I’m just saying that if we went to a motel and there was conveniently one room with one bed for them to share, I’m sure they’d sort it out. Probably several times over.” Sam winces at the mental picture that summons.</p><p>“Maybe we save that as a plan B,” he says grudgingly, because Charlie has a point and that would probably work. All Cas would have to do is loosen his tie and Dean’s jaw would be on the floor. He remembers all too well how Dean’s face looked when Cas cleaned up after returning from Purgatory. </p><p>They don’t have any more time to plan because Dean clatters back through the door, triumphantly holding a plate of messy s’mores aloft. Cas follows, suspiciously sucking on his fingers. Sam wonders what messy chocolate based sexual tension he and Charlie missed out on. Something good/disgusting judging by the glitter in Castiel’s eyes and the flush rising up Dean’s neck.</p><p>Charlie looks gleeful as she takes a s’more and the theme tune plays yet again. Sam accepts his own messy offering of chocolate and marshmallow and resigns himself to at least half an hour of Dean watching Cas lick chocolate off his lips. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Charlie takes off two days later, flinging her bags into the backseat with promises of stopping by again to show Cas Firefly. Dean gets a hug and Sam gets one too, although he suspects it’s only so she can whisper in his ear to make him promise that he will tell her every tiny detail. </p><p>He promises, if only because his thigh still bears the bruise from her small, strong fingers.</p><p>But then she’s gone, the car disappearing around the corner and leaving him alone with these two idiots.</p><p>Ugh. If they do ever get their act together, Sam will be the third wheel. Although, in the coming weeks, he begins to think that might be preferable.</p><p>It's a good month later when they finally make some progress. A long month. Sam has taken to leaving the room when they get a bit too tactile and start doing things with their mouths. Dean once ate an ice lolly in the most obscene way possible in front of Cas and Sam practically bolted so the image wouldn't be lodged in his brain forever to make disturbing reappearances when he least expects it.</p><p>On the plus side (and that is debatable, because it’s not a plus for Sam) they’ve expanded from freaky mouth things to...other freaky sexual tension things. For starters, Dean isn’t subtle about looking Cas up and down. Sam came into the kitchen the other day to find Cas stripping off his bloody shirt to throw in the wash after a hunt. Dean was sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning a gash on his arm...or he had been. His hand was frozen in midair, clutching a towel, as though Cas removing clothing meant he’d entirely forgotten what he was meant to be doing. Instead his eyes were fixed on Cas’ bare back. Sam has little interest in men at all but he can understand Dean’s attraction. Cas is often self conscious, even around them, and very rarely bares any skin at all. But now with his chest bare, his back is well defined, skin pale and smooth, save for the two jagged scars on his shoulder blades. With a wrench in his stomach, Sam realises how Cas must have gotten them.</p><p>‘We never meant for you to fall,’ he thinks regretfully, before he looks back at his brother. There’s a strange, soft expression on Dean’s face, tinged with sadness. But then Cas turns around and Dean hurriedly turns back to his original task. Sam quietly sighs and steps further into the room.</p><p>“Don’t get blood on the table, Dean,” he chastises, before sweeping up the dirty, bloody rags into the bin. Dean merely sticks out his tongue, never once moving his eyes up. But that’s easy enough to understand. Having the person you want standing half naked in the kitchen, but not being allowed to look or touch must be hard. Sam just wants to shake his brother and point to Cas and scream ‘He’s right there! You love him and he loves you, stop wasting time!’ Because if anyone knows about appreciating what you have while you’ve got it, it’s Sam. It’s been years and he worries that the smell of Jessica’s perfume is fading from his mind. The sound of her voice. The flash of teeth she’d give him when she was teasing. If he’d known he was going to lose her, he’d have taken each of these memories and appreciated them, holding each one in his mind until it was burned in his memory. Because while he’ll never forget her, he’s forgetting the smaller, less tangible things.</p><p>He doesn’t want to forget. And Cas is human now, skinny and vulnerably human. They shield him as best they can on hunts, as he refuses to be left home and useless, but one day they might not be quick or strong enough. Sam only knows of his own grief but he remembers how in the beginning, it was all consuming, devouring him from the inside.. Dean has been through enough and Sam, still carrying the weight of losing the love of his life, doesn’t want that for his brother.</p><p>Quite honestly, Sam is this close to locking them in the bunker's dungeon until they work something out. </p><p>So after a month of lascivious glances and lingering touches and Cas watching Dean sleep in the back of the Impala with badly concealed longing in his eyes, Sam is desperate for something to happen. And then, on a hunt one night, it does.</p><p>It's on a basic salt and burn. The graveyard is dark when they arrive to dig up the grave of one Alberta Smith, murdering undead bitch extraordinaire. They work as quickly as they can, shoveling dirt out of the grave as fast as they can but even with three of them, it's not quick enough. They've just uncovered the coffin when she arrives.</p><p>She appears out of nowhere and throws Sam clear across the graves. As he lands in the dirt, breath knocked out of him, he hears Dean yell his name. He lies on his back, too stunned to move for a moment before struggling to pull himself up. Every inch of him will be sore tomorrow, made even worse by not giving himself a moment to recover but he doesn’t know how well Dean and Cas can cope out there on their own. </p><p>His left leg screams in pain as he puts weight on it but he grits his teeth and moves as quickly as he can between the graves. He finds Dean on the ground, blood dripping from his mouth as Alberta advances on him. </p><p>She must have been quite pretty in life, a slender figure in a pale dress, with thick, dark waves tumbling over her shoulders. If only her lover had married her, instead of leaving her destitute and pregnant, maybe she’d have lived a full life. But she’d given birth alone and frightened instead, dying from loss of blood and leaving the baby crying next to a corpse. Years of being trapped with grief and rage have made her this wild creature with rotten skin and a gaping maw. Fear of her attacking Dean with that mouth of blood and teeth makes Sam run faster, scooping up the gasoline from the ground as he passes it.</p><p>But Cas is already there, shooting salt rounds at her with his lips pressed into a thin, determined line. Her eyes get even darker at this and she turns on Cas with a snarl. Sam hurriedly upends the can into the open grave, while Dean spits out a mouthful of blood, scrabbling in the dirt for the crowbar.</p><p>“Hurry, Sam!” Dean shouts frantically, but it’s too late as the ghost has knocked the gun clean from Castiel’s hands and thrusts her sharpened claws into his chest.</p><p>Dean cries out in anguish, as Cas stares numbly at the fingers digging bloody holes into his chest. Blood is already spilling over the wound, staining the dark t-shirt that Cas is wearing. Sam doesn’t wait any longer, flicking open the lighter and tossing it down onto the earthly remains of Alberta Smith.</p><p>Sam steps back as the grave bursts into flames, the heat smothering and oppressive. The ghost shrieks loudly and yanks her claws out of Cas' chest. Castiel gasps with the pain as they come away with a squelch. There's dark patches of blood spreading over his shirt in five distinct finger marks. Cas drops like a stone onto all fours, panting, clutching at the wounds. The ghost turns her eyes on Sam with murderous intent but it's already too late. Her bones are burning, erasing her ties to this world. With a guttural scream, she vanishes, leaving the night suddenly still and quiet..</p><p>Sam rushes to Cas but Dean has already beaten him there, crouching by the former angel's side, distress seeping from every pore. In the dim, flickering light of the flames, Dean’s face is tense and pale. Cas is equally white, eyes a vivid blue standing out against the pallor.</p><p>"Shit, Cas!" Dean exclaims but there's no anger in it. He's gripping Castiel's shoulder tightly like a lifeline, as if to reassure himself that Cas is alive. Sam carefully kneels on Castiel's other side and inspects the wounds. They're not deep but they should get Cas back to the bunker and fix him up, just in case they get infected. It'll sting for a few days but it could have been a lot worse.</p><p>"He's fine, Dean," Sam says, trying to calm his agitated brother. But there's still fear in Dean's eyes and Sam can see the thoughts going through his head. </p><p>"Does it hurt?" Dean asks gruffly and Sam curses internally. He thought that maybe, just maybe that this was it. But it’s not really Dean’s style to grip the ex-angel by the collar and pull him into a desperate kiss in the middle of a graveyard.</p><p>Cas shifts awkwardly, trying to prop himself up. It clearly hurts to do so as he winces. The blood stains spread ever so slightly, blood red patches visible on Castiel's dark blue t-shirt. A dark expression flickers over Dean's face like a cloud.</p><p>"I'm fine, Dean," Cas says, resting against the cold marble of the headstone. He’s clearly spotted the storm brewing and Sam suspects that if he hadn’t gotten to Alberta first, her second death would have been even more painful than her first. "I have had worse, you know." Dean nods, mouth still pressed in a thin line.</p><p>“Let’s get him back to the bunker,” Sam says, hooking his arm under Castiel’s. Dean nods and does the same and together, they carefully pull Castiel to his feet. But even then, there’s a noticeable difference to their actions. Dean’s grip on Cas verges on possessive and he uses his free hand to gently sweep the dark strands of hair away from Castiel’s eyes. There’s a brief pause as Cas and Dean stare at each and Sam quietly prays that their first kiss isn’t going to be while he’s attached to them. But the moment breaks and they move as one to load Cas into the back seat.</p><p>Later, Sam catches Dean hovering in the open doorway of Cas’ room. Their friend is fast asleep, carefully bandaged up and drugged into a deep, dreamless sleep. Dean’s face is more open than Sam has ever seen it, revealing every scared, confused and adoring thought.</p><p>Shit. Charlie is right. He’s going to have to do something.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Dean’s not dumb by any means. He’s not smart in the same Harvard-educated, LSAT-taking way that Sam is but he isn’t dumb. He can set traps and make EMP counters from walkmans and out-quip anybody. Sam will happily fight anyone who says his big brother isn’t clever.</p><p>He is however, emotionally stupid. That Sam can say for sure. Just absolutely thick as shit. So it’s entirely possible that Dean doesn’t actually realise what feelings he’s having for Cas.</p><p>So Sam tries to broach the subject.</p><p>“So, about Cas,” he says one day, while Dean’s bent over the Impala’s engine. He’s out here under the pretense of bringing Dean a beer. Otherwise he for sure wouldn’t be watching Dean, dirty and shirtless, work on the only long term relationship he’s ever had. He’s a little surprised Cas isn’t here leering. Because that’s something they do now. And yes, it is as awkward and uncomfortable as you might expect. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Dean grunts, picking up his beer and swigging from it. It’s a warm October day, sun high overhead. It’s been a few days since the Alberta incident so Sam thought that maybe now would be safe to broach the subject. All Dean has done since Cas got hurt was to hover anxiously and vow that Cas was never coming on hunts ever again. </p><p>“I mean, what’s Cas’ plan?” Sam says, acting casual and as though he hasn’t spent the last three days planning his words down to the last syllable. “He can’t stay here forever…” Dean practically slams the beer back down and glares.</p><p>“Why the hell not?” he demands, aggressively. Sam hides his smirk with his beer.</p><p>“Just, you know,” he says, with a shrug. He’s perched on a tree stump, watching Dean work but far enough away to avoid any sweat. Because Dean is rank at this point and he doesn’t know what’s sweat and what’s oil. “Surely Cas isn’t gonna want to stay here with us forever. We haven’t exactly asked.”</p><p>“Maybe he wants to stay,” Dean says, staring down into the depths of Baby once more. </p><p>“Maybe,” Sam muses. He should feel bad for playing his brother like a harp but he doesn’t. It’s for his own good and Sam’s sanity. “But he should have the option, you know? Like, we’re screwed. We’re always gonna be hunters but Cas can be something else. Do something. Learn something, get a regular job, meet someone…” There’s a loud clang from behind the hood and Dean reappears, looking flustered.</p><p>“Cas isn’t the type to just up and leave us,” he says, throwing a spanner to the ground. “He’s family.”</p><p>“He’ll always be family,” Sam points out gently. Because really, that was never up for debate. Like Bobby, Jody, Jo and Ellen, Kevin and Charlie...Cas is basically a Winchester now. One of theirs. “But I think he should have the option. He's human now. It’s his life. He doesn’t have to sacrifice it for us.” Dean frowns, face twisted with confliction. </p><p>“You think Cas would just give all of this up?” he asks, gesturing around them, at the car and the bunker. “The whole Heaven and Hell thing?”</p><p>Sam pauses for a moment, thinking of what their lives would have been like without the supernatural interference. Mary and John would have grown old together. He’d be a lawyer by now. Married. He and Jess might have even had a baby. Dean would still turn up to Sunday dinner in the Impala. Bobby would help Mary with the dishes. It seems so soft and so simple...and so far away.</p><p>“Wouldn’t you, if you had the chance?” he asks.</p>
<hr/><p>There’s no real sign his talk to Dean worked at first. Dean hunches over the Impala until the sun dips low in the sky and then heads inside to shower. He stays stiff and silent all through dinner so Cas and Sam make conversation over their meatloaf and while Ca clears away their plates, Sam grabs a map and a newspaper to discuss what might be their next hunt. But even this doesn’t bring Dean out of his funk, shoulders tense while Cas flips through a few of Bobby’s old books, trying to figure out if this might be a genuine siren.</p><p>Sam glances up over his work a few times and catches Dean’s eyes on Castiel. The angel takes no notice, dry lips pursed as he reads. Cas has mostly given up on Jimmy Novak’s suits and ties but somehow, when they leave the bunker, the beige trenchcoat stays. Sam’s glad for that at times. Cas without it would be like Dean without the Impala or Charlie without a geeky t-shirt.</p><p>Sam smiles and circles yet another strange death in the obituaries.</p><p>A few minutes later, he makes his excuses and slips out, under the pretense of making a few calls about their possible case. He hopes Dean takes the bait. He even makes a point of saying that it could take a while, and who knows if the victim’s sister will even take a call at this hour.</p><p>She absolutely doesn’t, and Sam listens to the outgoing voicemail message before ending the call. He sneaks back down the hallway and is elated when he can hear Dean’s low rumble. The bait has been taken.</p><p>He should feel weird, loitering outside of the kitchen door, and he’ll definitely miss this bit out when he tells Charlie later. </p><p>“I don’t understand,” Cas says, and even through the ajar door, Sam can hear the hurt.<br/>
“Do you not want me here?”</p><p>Oh fuck. Come on, Dean. Do better.</p><p>“Of course we do!” Dean insists and Sam hears the clunk of a beer bottle being put down on the table. “We do, I just...don’t want you to feel obligated to be here. If you wanted to do other things.”</p><p>“What else would I do?” Cas says and Sam can picture those huge blue eyes, confused and doing that usual kicked-puppy expression that Cas is so good at. Dean is definitely a sucker for those eyes.</p><p>“Anything,” Dean says and Christ, Sam can tell his brother is faking the upbeat enthusiasm ringing in his voice. “Anything you wanted. You’re human now. We’d have to fake some ID for you but we can manage that. I think Topher down in Utah can still knock out a good birth certificate if needed. I just….” </p><p>Sam cracks and peers round the crack in the door. As he suspected, Cas is making himself small, a significant feat for someone who used to be a warrior of God. He looks far too skinny in the oversized cotton t-shirt he’s wearing but despite their best efforts, Jimmy Novak appears to have had a serious metabolism and Cas stays the skinny, holy tax accountant type that they met all those years ago. </p><p>Dean has his hand on the table, palm open, as though he tried to reach out for Cas and then thought better of it. Even now, his fingers twitch as though he wants nothing more to touch Cas, as though he aches the longer they’re not in any physical contact. But Cas has folded into himself, arms tucked in together against his chest.</p><p>“I mean,” Dean says, defeated. “We’re good at getting people killed, Cas. We lose people. It’s what we do. And I’d be a real dick if I didn’t give you the chance to get out. Me and Sam, we’re in this for the long haul. But you could be anything. Meet someone. Have that whole ‘apple pielife’ I hear so much about.” </p><p>If Sam had any doubts about Cas hearing that little waver in Dean’s voice, they all vanish when Cas reaches out to rest a few fingertips lightly on Dean’s forearm. It’s not much but there’s a change in tension when they finally make contact. As though they were both holding themselves in, holding back from what they really want. It dissipates as soon as Cas places his hand on Dean’s tanned skin.</p><p>“I had a purpose when I was an angel,” Cas says softly. “My purpose hasn’t changed now that I’ve fallen. I want to do this. And I want to be here.” </p><p>There’s a moment of silence and Sam counts to fifteen Mississippis while they stare at each other. Then Dean coughs and awkwardly runs his free hand through his hair. There’s the faintest quirk of a smile at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>“Good,” Dean says and then repeats it when the word comes out dry. “Good. I mean, I know Sam likes having you around, so you can be nerds together. And Charlie likes you a lot. We’re happy to keep you. You’re family, you know that, Cas.”</p><p>“Do you want me here?” Castiel asks, his forehead creasing with worry. As if Dean would ever answer in the negative. Sam knows why Dean missed himself out of that little Castiel fan club list and it’s not because Dean is indifferent to the former angel.</p><p>“You know I…” Dean starts and then trails off. He seems fixated on Castiel’s fingers on his skin. As though all of his nerves have come alive with that touch. As though someone can set your whole body on fire, heat rippling out through your skin, your heart to your stomach. His expression verges on disbelief, because even with all their staring and swapping lollipops and lack of personal space, they don’t often touch. Not like this. It’s almost a caress, a gesture far more intimate than the friendly hugs and back slaps that Dean is prone to. </p><p>“You know I need you, Cas,” Dean says, eyes dark. He’s not wearing that jovial mask anymore, his want and love laid bare. The tension in the room grows thick again, so much so that it almost crackles in the air. This is it. One of those pivotal moments where everything can change, if only you’re bold enough to take it. Everything you’ve ever wanted right in front of you. Be brave.</p><p>Sam doesn’t wait any longer. He turns down the corridor and quietly slips away. Maybe now it’s enough.</p>
<hr/><p>They leave for the hunt the next day and Sam doesn’t have any time to think, as they search for the siren before another girl is found with her throat ripped open and her heart carved out. They briefly doubted what they were hunting, questioning whether it was perhaps some other ravenous thing taking these girls to pieces. But they got lucky and managed to speak to the suspect the police had taken into custody. He was a blubbering, distraught mess, unsure how he so brutally murdered Melissa when their wedding was only weeks away.</p><p>“I hate sirens,” Dean muttered bitterly as they let the police station doors swing shut behind them and head to where Cas is waiting for them in the car. Sam only nods in response. Sirens are particularly twisted and leave only pain and grief behind them, with innocent people in jail for crimes they never would have committed otherwise. </p><p>“How do we get Melissa’s blood on the knife?” he asks instead. The bronze knife that they need came along with them, stashed in the Impala's trunk. Unfortunately, they also need the blood from one of its victims, something much harder to get a hold of. Dean gives him a wide grin as the car comes into sight, Cas sprawled out in the back seat.</p><p>“Fancy a trip to the morgue, Sammy?” and Sam groans. </p><p>They return to the bunker two days later, sore and bloodied but triumphant. Sam is last into the shower and relishes the hot water spilling over his skin and washing the dirt out of his hair. He puts on fresh sweats and a t-shirt and wonders if they have enough money to order pizza. Dean will eat anything with meat on it but they’ll probably have to get plain cheese for Cas. </p><p>The kitchen is empty of Dean and Cas, as is the living room. And the library. Dean’s room is also empty so Sam closes the door behind him with a frown. He turns and heads down the hall to Cas’ room.</p><p>They forgot to close the door. They’re sprawled out on Cas’ bed, Castiel’s legs half flung over Dean’s lap, their limbs entwined in the most intimate way. Cas has a hand resting under Dean’s tank top, fingers splayed over Dean’s muscled stomach. Dean’s right arm is wrapped around Castiel’s back, pulling the angel in tight and his left hand is gently holding Castiel’s chin, sweeping a thumb over Castiel’s skin. Maybe it’s their first kiss, maybe it’s not, but it’s not the frantic, desperate kiss Sam thought they’d have when they finally gave in and put their mouths on each other. This is slow, unhurried, loving. Dean slides his hand along Cas’ jawline and buries it in his hair, fingers curling possessively into the dark waves. They’re pressed together from chest to toes and with their eyes closed, they’re too lost in each other to notice Sam slip away from the doorway.</p><p>"Fucking finally," Sam mutters, although his heart isn't in it. </p><p>Content in the knowledge that they’ll be busy for a while, Sam heads to grab his phone from his bedside table. Call for pizza first, then Charlie.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh hey, I finally finished this. </p><p>I love Sam is Destiel fics, particularly when they're being stupid and looking longingly at each other, while Sam bitch faces in the background. Which is basically all this fic is, so it's very self indulgent, I guess?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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